


The Mystery of The Blue Beanie

by glitterjemstone



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Courfeyrac Is A Little Shit, Courfeyrac being Courfeyrac, Embarrassment, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras wishes his friends weren't his friends, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Grantaire being Grantaire, M/M, Mysteries, Mystery, Secret Relationship, beanies, being exposed, courfeyrac/jehan if you want to squint, enjolras mumbles a lot in this, i hope so, is this funny?, nosy friends, not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterjemstone/pseuds/glitterjemstone
Summary: Enjolras wears a beanie, which leads to everyone finding out about him and Grantaire.





	The Mystery of The Blue Beanie

Enjolras was really, really trying his best to slip into the back room of the Musain unnoticed, despite the fact that he should have been here twenty minutes ago.

Thankfully, not everyone was here yet, so he could nearly silently take a seat in the middle of the room, back against a wall so he could see everything, and watch Combeferre as he got papers ready in order to lead the ABC meeting.

 _God bless rotation schedules_. Enjolras wasn’t the only head of the ABC Society, only one of the founders. He shared the title with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, and since freshman year of university they had worked off a rotation schedule of who would lead the meeting. While they all worked equally hard on group projects, just one of them taking charge at the meeting each week was exhausting, and thus, the rotation had been born.

Nobody had noticed his arrival yet; Bahorel and Éponine were talking across from him, engrossed in a conversation about an action movie they’d seen last night, Marius was seated next to Cosette, looking at her with adoring eyes (for once in his life, Enjolras understood what that look was), Jehan was writing in their journal, Courfeyrac reading over their shoulder. He sighed when none of them turned as he took out his laptop and turned it on. He pulled the blue beanie he was wearing down lower over his ears. The feeling of a beanie covering his hair was an unfamiliar one, since he usually opted for putting his hair in a bun, but that wasn’t an option today. Instead, the visible ends of his blond hair curled at his neck.

He was quietly typing a philosophy paper due next week when everyone’s favorite trio walked in.

“Enjolras!” Joly cried happily, bouncing in, followed by Bossuet and Musichetta. “Nice beanie!”

Enjolras groaned. He was naïve to have thought him wearing a beanie would go unnoticed in a friend group as in tune with each other as the ABC. All of their friends in the room looked over. He made eye contact with Ferre, who raised a singular eyebrow. Enjolras shook his head gently, in a  _“I don’t want to talk about it”_ manner, but his best friend continued to stare at him.

“It’s a new look for you, man,” Bahorel commented. He was smirking, as if he knew something no one else did, but Enjolras had the awful feeling that he knew exactly what Bahorel knew. Of course, he thought, if anyone here was going to know _whose_ beanie this was, it was Bahorel or Jehan.

“It’s just a hat,” Enjolras protested. “My ears were cold.”

“Enj, it’s the middle of spring.” Musichetta eyed him. “Only my boyfriend bundles up in weather like this, and he’s only in a sweater.” Joly smiled brightly, flapping the too-long sleeves of his mustard yellow sweater.

“Yeah, and this is just for the look! I don’t think you’re in danger of getting a cold in this weather, none of us are sick,” Joly said.

“Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’m wearing a beanie, so what? I’m not allowed to wear new things?” Enjolras said, though even as he said the words they sounded like a weak defense. His friends eyed him suspiciously.

“C’mon, guys, it really isn’t that dramatic. Why don’t we leave Enjolras and his beanie alone?” Cosette interjected like the angel she was. He shot her a grateful look to which she gave him a smile.

Just as he thought he might get away with it, Feuilly walked in from having just finished his shift at a bookstore down the street. All mousy hair and hard eyes, Enjolras was counting on Feuilly to be a distraction from his current predicament, right up until the second Feuilly followed everyone’s eyes to where he was sitting, slouched and defensive.

“What’s with the beanie?” Feuilly asked.

“We were just asking that!” Jehan burst. They were grinning wildly, and Enjolras got the feeling they’d just had a silent conversation with Bahorel.

“Are you cold? D’ya want my jacket?” Feuilly offered, already slipping an arm out of his coat.

“I’m not co—,” he paused. “I’m fine! I don’t need your jacket Feuilly, but thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Feuilly nodded.

“ _Hmm,_ you’re _‘fine’_ but you’re wearing a beanie. It just doesn’t add up,” Courfeyrac said, shaking his head to shame him.

“Why not! Why does a beanie have to mean something!” Enjolras said angrily.

“Because _you don’t wear beanies_ ,” Courfeyrac responded.

“Let’s go back to what Cosette said! Let’s leave me and my beanie alone,” Enjolras said.

“No! Who do you think we _are,_ Enj. We _can’t_ leave things alone. We are a group dedicated to finding answers and giving them to the public! Some things deserve to be public information,” Jehan said.

Enjolras turned his eyes back to Combeferre, pleading a _“help me”,_ knowing that Ferre getting him out of this would mean giving him an explanation later.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Friends, I think the meeting should be started right about now. We’ve already gone five minutes into our scheduled time.” Everyone listened to Ferre. It was one of those universal facts about him; he was the kind of person people always listened to, even if he was telling you to stop trying to solve the friend group’s greatest mystery. “Now, are we missing anyone?”

Everyone looked around.

“Grantaire! We don’t have Grantaire!” Bossuet said.

“Does anyone know where he is?” Combeferre asked.

“Right here,” a voice said, Grantaire appearing in the doorway and taking his traditional seat at the back, sketchbook in hand. “Sorry I’m late, what did I miss?”

“Only the unsolvable mystery of Enjolras’s beanie! Or rather, the we’re-not-allowed-to-solve-it mystery of his beanie,” Courfeyrac said, side-eyeing Combeferre, who looked undisturbed.

Grantaire looked amused. Enjolras couldn’t help but stare. Grantaire seemed oblivious to how utterly _attractive_ he was: Enjolras frequently imagined the man’s fingers running through his hair (though, he had pretty good examples to work from), thought about running his own fingers over every aspect of Grantaire’s face, tracing the curve of his nose (broken three different times) and the subtle arch of his eyebrows. Enjolras shook himself out of his sudden daydreams.

“It looks good on you, Apollo, really brings out your eyes,” Grantaire said, watching as Enjolras blushed deeply. Éponine looked back and forth between the two. Her eyes narrowed at Enjolras’s red face and Grantaire’s confident smirk.

“Wait, really?” Éponine exclaimed. She quoted Grantaire’s words to the group again. His friends turned to look at her, Enjolras included. She spoke with the air of someone who had made a connection before everyone else.

“Is the reason you all are so invested in my beanie that you _don’t like_ that I’m wearing it? If all you're upset about is that I’m wearing it in the first place then why don’t I just take—,” Enjolras had reached his hand up to yank the beanie off, only to freeze mid-action. _He couldn’t do that_. He looked desperately over at Ferre again, but he just shrugged this time and pushed up his glasses. It was a silent _“you’re on your own now”_.

“ _Oh-ho!_ I think we have a new development in the case! _Why_ don’t you want to take off the beanie?” Bahorel asked.

Enjolras crossed his arms. “I don’t have to answer to you,” he mumbled. Grantaire laughed loudly from where he sat, and Enjolras glared at him.

“You’ve really got a talent for persuasion,” Grantaire said sarcastically. Enjolras felt a smile tug at his lips at Grantaire’s voice.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Enjolras said, meaning to sound angry. He felt, instead, happiness bubbling up inside of him. He cursed his feelings. “This is all your fault, anyways.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Musichetta said. Enjolras huffed.

“Nothing! It means nothing! Why can’t we move on now?” he pleaded, but as he spoke, the beanie was plucked from his head, his hair clinging to the fabric. He whipped is head around to see Combeferre holding the blue beanie in his dark hands, examining it. “ _Traitor!_ ” 

As soon as he turned, the room erupted into gasps and chatter. Grantaire was doubled over laughing as Enjolras glared at his best friend.

“ _No._ Enjolras, _seriously_? This is the best day of my life!” Courfeyrac whooped.

The hair that Enjolras had been hiding with the beanie was flecked and streaked with paint. Enjolras retracted into himself.

“Grantaire! Raise your hands,” Jehan said. _Yes_ , Enjolras thought smugly, _this would end the questions._

Grantaire complied, raising his hands to show that they were completely clean and paint-free. He was still smirking though, which didn’t help their case.

“I’m paint-less, Jehan,” Grantaire said. Jehan sighed disappointedly.

“Now, wait, paint can easily be washed off skin,” Bossuet said. His opinion was a trusted one, because they all remembered when Bossuet had spilled a can of paint and then promptly fell in the puddle it created. They’d only spent twenty minutes washing it off him, though his clothes were another story.

“How could I even get paint on Apollo’s hair like that?” Grantaire protested.

“Oh, _very, very easily_ , say, if two people were in a position like this,” Courfeyrac said. “Jehan, may I use you for a second?” When they nodded, Courfeyrac maneuvered them back against a wall until the two were only inches apart. Enjolras was half-convinced they were going to kiss in front of them all, until Courfeyrac spoke again. “Now can you lift your hand?”

Jehan lifted their hand and grasped at the hair atop Courfeyrac’s head, pulling at the roots. They smiled.

Courfeyrac pulled away. “Thank you for helping me in that demonstration. Questions?” He looked back and forth between Enjolras and Grantaire.

“No,” Enjolras mumbled. He glanced over at Grantaire. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset at the turn of events.

“None at all,” Grantaire said.

“Great! Now, tell us the story.” Joly clapped his hands together.

“What do you want to know?” Enjolras asked, leaning his head back against the wall of the Musain. He made eye contact with Grantaire, who looked hesitant, so he reached out an arm. Grantaire smiled and got up, coming to sit next to Enjolras. Instantly, he leaned into Grantaire, and Grantaire wrapped an arm around him.

Their friends cooed.

“I want to know about the beanie,” Feuilly said.

“Grantaire was painting when I stopped by his place. We were going to walk here together, but we didn’t take into account the paint on his hand when we were…” Enjolras trailed off.

“Making out,” Grantaire finished for him. Enjolras turned red.

“And since there wasn’t enough time for me to shower,” Enjolras continued. “We decided to just wash his hands and put a beanie on me."

“ _Awww_ , that's adorable. Not you two, but the idea that you guys really thought we wouldn’t notice Enjolras in a beanie. And that we’d figure you two out,” Courfeyrac said.

Enjolras pouted.

“How long have you guys been hiding this?” Marius asked. 

“A month.”

“Or so,” Grantaire added.

“ _Or so_?” Musichetta asked.

“Three months or so,” Enjolras said, muffled because he’d raised his hands to his face and was attempting to cover up his embarrassment.

Their friends all groaned.

“Three months? Seriously?” Bahorel said, shaking with laughter. “Damn, you guys are a mess.”

Enjolras lowered his hands and took Grantaire’s free hand in his own. He tilted his head up to look at his boyfriend from a weird angle. Grantaire looked down at him and kissed his exposed forehead before looking away again.

_No, they weren’t a mess. They were just fine._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed! kudos and comments are much appreciated <3333 also oh man please tell me if i have any typos. i always have typos.


End file.
